


on the road to hell

by honey_butter



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcoholism mention, Alternate Universe, Angst, Hadestown AU, Inspired by Hadestown, Other, Sad Ending, Suicide mention, and ramses is hades, anyway it ends the same way too so, buddy is hermes, fair warning, it's literally just the plot of hadestown on mars, juno is eurydice, new town is hadestown, oh boy also, peter is orpheus, rita's just kinda there cause i can't write tpp fic without her, substance abuse mention, they might be a little ooc??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21619873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_butter/pseuds/honey_butter
Summary: It's an old song. (it's an old tale from way back when.)It's a sad song. (it's a tragedy.)But we sing it anyway.Or, A Hadestown Jupeter AU because I like to suffer.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	on the road to hell

**Author's Note:**

> hi y'all! i've been working on this for roughly a month now and, while it's a little shorter than i was hoping, it's finally done!! quick warning in case you aren't aware: this follows the plot of hadestown which is very angsty. this fic includes mentions of alcoholism, suicidal thoughts, substance abuse, and ultimately major character death. take care of yourselves please!
> 
> title and lines throughout are from hadestown by anais mitchell.
> 
> enjoy!!

Old Town was Hell.  _ Well, no, _ Juno thought,  _ not Hell exactly. Old Town is a stop on the road to Hell. A way station where no one gets off the train, instead more and more pile on. _

When Juno was nineteen, he knelt in the house he’d grown up in (not his home, this place had never been his home.) and clutched the still warm body of his twin brother to his chest. Juno didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he only rocked them back and forth, dark red beginning to stain his work shirt.

“I thought he was you,” a monster hisses from the door.

Juno stares into her eyes, unseeing. This is the last time she stands before him (this is not the last time he sees her. she lives in his mirror, in his shadow.) and he refuses to acknowledge her.

Juno holds Benten until the police get there, until they pull him away. It is not hard, he has gone limp and weak. They speak to him in hurried tones, the sounds of other gunshots pulling them away. To everyone else, Benten is a number, a date of birth and death, a court date, a statistic. “Old Town is as dangerous as ever,” they say. “Just this year alone, two hundred and seventy two people have been murdered within its streets.”

Juno walks out of the house, he walks down the street, out of Old Town, never out of the city. He realizes now, if Hell’s waystation can take someone as good as his brother there is no hope for someone as wretched and horrible as him. He is in a fog, going about the motions. He starves on the streets for a while, goes back to work, gets fired, gains a friend who cares more about Juno than anyone has in a long while. More than he has cared about himself in a long time.

There are a few times, a few dark days, when he stares at the pills, at the needle in his hand, at the rope in his closet. It’s so much easier, it’s on your own terms. If the fire doesn’t get you, the flood will, why not make a storm to drown in of your own.

_ (the women who lurk in the darkened corners of everyone’s minds smiled, they liked how easy this made it for them. but not yet. he couldn’t leave just yet.) _

Sasha leaves him, Mick disappears for months on end, and Rita spends her weekends with Frannie. Benten is dead. Sarah Steel is dead. Old Town is dying. Hyperion City is rotting. Nobody sticks around when the dark clouds roll in, everyone will leave him. Always.

Juno spent time with the Kanagawas, drank more times than there were days, snorted and smoked stuff that made him forget what days were. His body hurt. Now he was dying, just like his city. And he didn’t even care.

Rita tried to stay with him, tried to keep him home. It didn’t help any, he couldn’t see her through his shut eyes.  _ Fair weather friends,  _ he thought bitterly,  _ the only one I can count on is the drink. _

He didn’t work much, so he didn’t eat much. He left his apartment, slept in the office. He didn’t have the money for the rent.

“I don’t know what to do, Frannie,” Rita whispered into a set of coms. “I don’t know how to save him.”

Juno  _ craved _ .

_ (“we have food,” the women hissed into his ear instead, “we can shield you from the bite of the sun, the sting of the cold. we have a nice soft bed, little flower, all it takes is your soul.”) _

_ (not yet.) _

_ (not. yet.) _

  
  
  


Peter Nureyev could talk anyone into anything. When he opened his mouth, words dripping with honey spilled out, and if he asked kindly enough, flowers would bloom for him. 

He believed, because he was beautiful and because he could cause others to grow more beautiful, that the world was a good place. That there were no monsters lurking in alleyways.

Buddy Aurinko took him under her wing. She had known his caretaker (the knife painted red whispered the words “not his father”) and she marveled at his words, at the way he was wise in his naivety.

They were on Mars, stealing a painting from a wealthy club owner (she knew that the word ‘stealing’ was a stretch for them when peter was there, he only had to ask for it) when they saw him. Buddy realized what the look in Peter’s eyes meant when he met the eyes of a goddess in silk from across the party’s room; she’d had the same expression when she’d met Vespa.

“You want to talk to him?” Buddy nudged Peter’s arm, a smirk lifting the unscarred corner of her mouth.

“Yes, but… Buddy, the job. I haven’t even cornered Soto yet.”

“Don’t worry about the job, we have the time.”

Peter grinned and, stars, Buddy smiled ruefully as she was hit by a wave of his charms.

He turned to go.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

(don’t leave me yet) “Don’t come on too strong.”

He flashed his teeth and disappeared into the crowd.

Buddy lingered for a few minutes before heading to the powder room and the hallway that connected it to the gallery. There was a job to do.

  
  
  


“Come home with me.”

Juno squinted up at the man who stood before him, one hand loosely holding a glass of…  _ something _ .

“Who are you?”

A smile and, wow. Juno  _ wouldn’t _ mind going home with that actually.

“The man who’s gonna marry you.”

Okayyyy, maybe not.

“Are you always like this?”

“Yes. What’s your name, darling?”

“Juno. Juno Steel.”

“ _ Ju-no _ .” He savored the syllables on his tongue, Juno shivered slightly at the soft cushion of his voice. “Your name is like a melody.”

“You’re really something special aren’t you Mr…?” Juno trailed off, looking for a name once again.

The boy paused for a second, hesitated, “Peter Nureyev, but don’t say it too loudly. Allow me a dance with you, please.”

Juno hesitated, he’d been enjoying this, sitting alone in the corner of a roaring party sipping cocktail after cocktail. But, he flicked his eyes over Peter again, well he might enjoy  _ that _ more. (never mind the way his voice made juno feel, like he was already deep, deeply in love. juno had never been in love before.)

“Sure.”

They danced, for song after song. A tango, a foxtrot, a slow dance that was more of a sway. Peter talked, he made grand declarations, whispered sweet nothings in Juno’s ear. 

And Juno laughed.

For the first time in a long while.

_ I’m going to have to tell Rita about this later, _ he thought as Peter spun him in a wide circle, his dress fluttering like a flame.

He hadn’t thought anything like that in months.

  
  
  


Peter found the goddess again at another party, at a bar on Hyperion, in the gutter of an alley after one too many drinks. For some reason, before it had been too long to forget and just long enough to  _ wish _ , they found each other.  _ (the women’s teeth were made of silver and their hands wrapped spools of thread tighter and tighter.) _ Eventually, after one too many of these occurrences, when they were seated beside each other on the worn out couch in Juno’s office, Peter broke.

“Remember when I said I was going to marry you?”

Peter watched as Juno looked at him for a long moment, Peter thought that he might be able to die in those eyes.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, dear… will you?”

Juno’s eyes widened for a brief second before he was shaking his head with laughter, “Wow, Nureyev. How are you living in _ this _ city, in this time and still think that marriage could be an option?”

“And why wouldn’t it be? Just the two of us up against the big mean world, it would be quite the adventure.” Peter fought to keep the honey off his tongue, he didn’t want that to be the reason Juno married him.  _ He _ wanted to be the reason Juno married him.

“An adventure you say? What about, hell, even something as simple as wedding bands? How are you going to buy them?”

“Love, I’ll convince all of the gold in all the rivers of the galaxy to curve around your finger.”

Juno bit back a smile at that, “Okay then, what about food? I’m sure you’d want a  _ big, white _ wedding. Who’s gonna lay the wedding table?”

“Dearest, the trees will bend for me and give you their fruit. With me you’ll never have to be hungry again.”

“Really?” Juno asked, slowly stretching until one of his legs rested in Peter’s lap, “And just what are you going to say to them?”

“I haven’t, I haven’t quite finished yet. But I’m writing something, something big. Something Earth-shattering. When I’m done, it’ll bring soft-ness back into the world.”

Peter watched as Juno quickly looked away, one hand brushing lightly over an old, nearly faded scar on his cheek. “There’s nothing soft left to bring back, Nureyev.”

Peter tucked a curl behind Juno’s ear and whispered a string of words under his breath, when he drew his hand away a red blossom bloomed behind Juno’s ear. “That, my darling detective, is where you are wrong.”

Juno felt his breath catch in his throat as Peter’s hand lingered beside Juno’s face, a heavy silence filled the air. And then, before he even realized he was doing it, Peter gently traced a finger along the curve of Juno’s jaw. Juno sighed, the sound shaking in the air. Peter watched the way Juno’s lips parted before ducking down and meeting them with his own.

The kiss was clumsy, the angle awkward, but it was  _ perfect _ . Juno bunched his hands in the front of Peter’s shirt like he was starving. Peter held Juno’s jaw tenderly, lovingly, like he would never let go.

When they broke apart Peter leaned his forehead against Juno’s, breathing deeply through his beautiful, red-stained mouth.

“Nureyev, I haven’t… I haven’t loved anyone in a long while.”

Peter, who loved everyone and everything in a separate way, stayed silent.

“I guess I was alone so long I forgot what loneliness was. And now, now all I want is to hold you, Nureyev.”

Peter wrapped his arms around Juno, tugging him closer. Juno wound his leg around Peter’s midsection. Peter whispered into his brow, “All I want is to hold you forever, sweetest Juno.”

_ (as they embraced, the women’s smiles only grew. now the string wrapped so tightly around them that it would snap with even the smallest tug. and, oh, did the women know someone who could _ pull _.) _

  
  
  


There were whispers. After all, the streets of Hyperion were filled with little ears, little eyes, people watching and hearing and  _ talking _ . 

“Have you heard of New Town?”

“You know what happened to the city’s dump?”

“They say it’s better now, better even than the rest of the city.”

“No one’s left in years.”

“It’s shining now. They say you can see it from Earth.”

And then quieter, these not meant for anyone to hear:

“Everybody hungry.” 

“Everybody tired.” 

“Everybody slaves by the sweat of his brow.” 

“The wage is nothing and the work is hard. It’s a graveyard in New Town.”

Those whispers don’t last long.

  
  
  


“Nureyev, I’m cold. Come back to bed.”

“I need to write, goddess. I’m so close.”

“...write quickly then, there’s a storm coming.”

  
  
  


“Nureyev, we need food.”

“Yes, darling, I know.”

“We need heat!”

“Mmm.”

“Nureyev can you hear me?!”

  
  
  


“Okay then, finish your writing.”

Quieter: “I’ll get us food.”

Quieter still: “Somehow.”

(a storm gathered above their heads.)

  
  
  


Ramses O’Flaherty had built New Town into a sparkling, silver city. It was no longer a part of Hyperion, it had become something other. The wall that surrounded it saw to that.

Ramses had built New Town with the hands and the sweat of thousands of desperate, soulless people. They depended on him because he paid them. Because he had taken their lives in exchange for food, a bed, a THEIA. 

Outsiders saw the shining gates, they saw the food that was delivered to the people inside. Outsiders saw and they began to realize that maybe a soul wasn’t too much to give for security.

Ramses had built this city to repay his debt, to make up for the fact that he had destroyed Sarah Steel’s life and killed her sons. He fashioned a furnace to warm the people that reminded him of her, he created things of steel to prop them up. He didn’t realize that by forcing the people to mold their own protections he was hurting them more. 

(he had good intentions. he wanted to right his wrongs.)

He didn’t realize he was murdering more Sarah Steels everyday.

(he didn’t care.)

  
  
  


Juno scrambled to find cases. No one wanted to hire him, a disgraced cop who had disappeared for months after drinking his savings away.  _ He _ wouldn’t even hire him.

“Mistah Steel, I’m sorry! I thought you were done with the whole private eye thing, I gave all the open cases away.”

“It’s fine, Rita.” Juno sighed into the phone, his breath warming the tip of his freezing nose.

“Ohhh!!  _ Ohhhh!!!! _ What if I—”

“Rita, I said it was fine!”

Rita fell silent. Juno sighed again.

“I’ll figure it out. I’ll— Nureyev should be done soon. He… he should be done soon.”

“Done with what, boss?”

“I don’t know.”

_ (the women came forward in his mind, far enough that they toed the edge of the light. they pushed him. “food,” they whispered. “you need food.”) _

“Food, we need food.”

  
  
  


“No one will listen to me! They’re all deafened by steel and drink.”

“Peter, Peter calm down.”

Peter buried his hands in his hair and began to tug it from its roots. He stared up at Buddy who was pacing a circle around his desk. 

“What does Juno say? I’m sure he can help you.” Buddy’s heels  _ click click clacked _ , echoing the clock inside Peter’s head.

“I haven’t seen him in a week.”

“Peter.”

“Don’t use that tone with me. You aren’t responsible for me.”

“Have you eaten?”

“What do you think?”

Buddy huffed, gently trying to pry one of Peter’s hands away from his head. “Take a job, Pete. We could always use your help.”

“This is  _ more important _ !” Peter roared. Buddy snatched her hand back like she’d been burned. Peter’s shoulders drooped, his head sagging, “I just need to figure out what to say, Bud. I need to figure out how to talk to them when they can’t hear me.”

“Good luck, Peter.”

“Buddy…”

“I said ‘good luck.’”

Peter watched her leave, watched the door slam behind her. He turned back to his paper and started to scribble again.

  
  
  


Juno Steel was a hungry lady. He was tired. He ached.

When the man approached him on the street corner with promises of flight, he didn’t see any other option.

_ (here came the tug.)  _ “I can offer you good honest work, Juno. A bed, warm food to fill your warm belly. How long has it been since you’ve had that?”

Juno’s thoughts flickered briefly to a couch, a warm body against his own, whispers in his ear and love in his heart. (an empty stomach, frozen fingers, aching bones and crackling joints that no amount of affection could heal.)

“I have… I have a home. I need to go back to him.”

“Words? Do you really think that boy can feed you with his  _ words _ ? He’ll write you a poem when the power is out, why not fly south for the winter?”

Juno’s heart skipped a beat, his stomach hurt, “How do you know so much about him?”

The man smiled, not unkindly (not kindly either), and patted Juno on the shoulder (it was supposed to be reassuring. it was not), “I’ve been looking out for you, Juno. I think you would like the protection I can offer you.”

“ _ Why? Why me? _ ”

(you look so much like you did when you were younger) “You’re exactly the lady I need, Juno.” (you look so much like your brother) “You can help us in New Town, you can help me.” (i can see your mother if i squint) “You can help others be warm, be fed.”

“I’ll think about it.”

_ (the women hummed and twisted the strings so tight around their fingers that the thread began to turn red with blood.) _

  
  
  


“How do I get in?”

Ramses smiled with relief, “It’s simple…”

  
  
  


He went back to their home, peaked through a crack in the door to the office and saw Nureyev hunched over the desk. Juno found a piece of paper in the waiting room.

_ Nureyev,  _

_ I’m sorry. I love you, always. And I don’t love easily, it hurts me to admit that you own my heart. But I am hungry.  _

_ I can’t ignore the pain in my stomach anymore, even if fixing it will tear me in two. I need food, Nureyev. And I found an out! Can you believe it? I found a way to not be hungry anymore. _

_ Don’t try to stop me, Nureyev, and don’t blame yourself. _

_ I’m already gone. _

_ I love you, _

_ Your worse half, Juno Steel _

Nureyev jumped at the sound of the outer door slamming. He wasn’t fast enough to stop him.  _ (the thread snapped.) _

  
  
  


(wait for me, juno. please.  _ please _ .)

  
  


“I don’t know where he went Buddy!”

“Where do you think a hungry little lady would run to?”

“New Town” and “I need to get him back.”

“It’ll be hard.”

“I don’t care.”

  
  
  


Peter snuck his way to the gleaming steel wall that marked the entrance to New Town. The darkness of the night sky oozed around him, cushioning his footsteps in its quiet hush. Peter ran his hand over the perfectly smooth metal, wincing as the heat radiating from inside burned his palm. There was no way he could scale this.

(“you have to convince it to trust you. to let you in. the walls aren’t used to the breathing.”)

“Please,” Peter whispered to the metal, “I come from a place of cold. A cold that will love you, that will find a home in your warmth. It will cool you and calm the fires that are roaring within you. If you let me in I can bring you some.”

The wall wobbled and rolled before him, quivering in an internal war.

(everything wants to be loved.)

The metal parts for him.

Peter takes one last (biting, freezing) breath of the crisp and clean outside air before stepping inside.

“Wait for me, Juno, I’m coming with you.”

  
  
  


Ramses’s office was stuffy and hot, sweat was already beginning to pool in the collar of Juno’s coat.

“I have a few papers for you to sign before we can get started.”

Juno was tired, his eyes hurting and begging to close. “Fine.”

A contract the thickness of Juno’s torso slammed down in front of him, Juno flipped the entire stack upside down and signed on the dotted line. 

Ramses’s eyes sparkled, “Well, then.”

“I want the food you promised me. I want a bed.”

“Juno, you have to  _ work _ for that. I don’t run a charity.”

“Fine.”

“And one more thing, you need a THEIA.”

(“you won’t feel a thing,” he said.) (men are kind until they’re not.)

Juno felt blank. He was not happy, but he was also no longer hungry. He couldn’t remember love enough to miss it.

  
  
  


Peter pushed his way through the streets of New Town. It was crowded with tired people, beaten people, controlled people. The warmth here was unfamiliar, his ability to slide through the crowd unnoticed even more so (who would want this?). Peter didn’t even have to pretend to be one of them, the masses of New Town kept their heads lowered, their feet dragging, unresponsive and unquestioning.

He found him in one of the countless factories responsible for making the steel to add to the wall outside of New Town. Just like the rest, his Juno worked without looking up, without taking in any input from the rest of the world.

“Juno.”

He didn’t acknowledge him.

“Juno.”

Peter was growing desperate now, he could feel his hands shaking.

“Come home with me.”

Juno’s head shot straight up and he whipped around, his hands pressed against the table he had been working on for balance. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” Peter was so relieved he could laugh.

“Nureyev.”

“Juno.”

“I told you not to follow me.”

“I know, but this isn’t right. I had to get you. Whatever happened, I’m to blame.”

“No.”

Peter watched him, itching to reach out and touch him. Something stopped his hands at his sides.

“How’d you get here? You don’t… you don’t have a THEIA do you?”

“A what? And no, I walked.”

“How’d you get beyond the wall?”

“I told it about love. I can do it again. I can get you out, I can bring us home again.”

Juno’s expression darkened and he glanced quickly over his shoulder, “You can’t.”

“I can.”

“You  _ can’t _ . You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

At that moment, Peter feels the stagnant, fuel-hot air around him change and shift. Juno’s eyes (wait, why was one of them  _ blue _ ?) widened as he looked over Peter’s shoulder and he moved to take another step backward but didn’t have far to go before he was pressed against the desk.

“Young man, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Peter swallowed and turned around.

Ramses O’Flaherty stood before him, hands on his hips and the glint of power in his eye. “You’re not from around here, son. These folks are law-abiding citizens, you trying to steal their hard work? Go back to where you came from.”

“He was just leaving,” Juno bit out. Peter prickled at the panic and helplessness in his voice.

“I’m not going anywhere. I came to take him with me.” Peter said, his voice loud, unshakable. It was the first time in a long while someone had talked to Ramses like that.

“No!” Juno yelped, “Please, I’ll convince him to go. Just don’t hurt him.”

Ignoring Juno, Ramses laughed, his voice growing colder and colder with each word, “Who the hell do you think you are? He couldn’t go anywhere even if he wanted to,” at that Juno let out a sudden, stifled scream, his blue eye starting to glow. “You’re not from here, boy, you don’t know. I’m in the business of Souls, and to replace his I had to give him a new one.”

“No…”

“He signed it away himself.”

“It isn’t true.”

“And now he belongs to me.”

“Juno! Tell me it isn’t true!”

“It is, Nureyev.” Juno’s voice sounded metallic now, echoey, as if a thousand other smaller voices were repeating what he said just before he said it, “I did, I do.”

Ramses seemed to grow even taller in the firelight, “Now, boy, you want a THEIA, too?”

Before he realized what he was doing, Peter had darted around Ramses and burst back into the streets, hurtling down the pavement at breakneck speed. He crashed into multiple workers, with none registering him, as he ran; his goal to get as far away from Ramses, from the threat of a THEIA, a new soul.

Peter began to mumble to himself, his honeyed words slipping and sliding from his lips in a litany of fear and agony: “If it’s true what they say, and my love is gone, I’ll leave. I have to: Always look out for number one. Can the world really not change? Is this how it will always be?”

A worker standing close to him, close enough to hear if he was still in possession of his own two ears, turned and looked Peter directly in the eyes. Peter held the eye contact, his voice growing just slightly louder. And now he wasn’t speaking to himself, he talked to the crowd, “Who are they to say what the truth is anyway? We play the game they create without complaint, they hold our lives in a fist and laugh as we suffocate.” More people are watching him now, having stalled in their ceaseless shuffle, Peter’s voice only grows louder, “Is this the only way? Is this the only answer?

“I believe if we stand together, we can change it.”

The crowd now gathered hums out affirmation, agreement.

“I believe that we are the many. And they are the few.”

Another hum.

“And isn’t it for the many to tell the few what to do?”

“We hear you.”

“Is it true what they say?”

The workers stood around him in loose circles. They reached their hands out to rest on his shoulders, on the shoulders of those touching him, until they formed a giant web. They stood together.

  
  
  


Ramses slammed the door to his office, the sound echoing through the empty corridors and alleys of this place where everything required a function. Dragging his hands over his face, he poured himself a glass of bourbon.

He glanced briefly at a picture that sat lonely and dust-covered on his desk: Sarah Steel holding two babies in her arms. Smiling, happy. 

“I’m doing this for you.” He said to the picture, her smile seemed to taunt him.

“ _ I am. _ ”

He sighed roughly and slammed his hand into the frame, the picture fell, the glass cracking on the floor. Ramses took a swig of bourbon.  _ (the women began to wind a string.) _

“I only wanted to protect him how I couldn’t protect you. This whole place is built for him.”

_ (one of them pulled out a pair of gleaming scissors.) _

“Don’t look at me like that, Sarah! You know that people aren’t good, they can’t be trusted with their own desires, that’s why I had to  _ take them away _ .”

_ (light flickered off of the metal as the women prepared to cut the string.) _

Ramses took one last drink of bourbon, slumping down into his chair.

_ ( _ snap _.) _

  
  
  


Juno felt something change. The THEIA in his head that had previously been calm and collected began to speak in gibberish, contradicting himself. The other workers in the factory he still stood in brought their hands to their heads, groaning out a chorus of pain at the storm of manic screaming that now filled their heads.

Nevertheless, Juno stumbled out of the factory, down the road, towards a mass of people who stood interlocked and together. Towards Peter Nureyev.

“Peter, we have to” (can’t, won’t, don’t, have, be, think, see, feel) “g— go.” (stay, sink, float, breath, think, see, feel.)

“Juno, what’s happened?” 

Even though the crowd of people parted for him, Juno managed to stumble into countless of them because he couldn’t walk in a straight line with the cacophony in his head. “Something’s changed, Peter, we can go now.”

“Are you okay?” Peter moved to grab his shoulders, to steady him. Again, something stopped him before they touched.

“No, the THEIA, it can’t” (won’t, don’t, have, have not, think, see, feel) “make up its mind. We have to leave  _ now _ .” (later, night, day, dawn, dusk, think, see, feel.)

“Okay.” Peter turned to look at the crowd around him, his hair hallowed by the artificial lights of New Town, “Will you follow me?”

All together: “We’ll follow you.”

“This way.”

They began to walk in a single file line, the path out not wide enough for more than one person’s shoulders to fit. The THEIA kept up its screeching, its contradictions. Juno fought through it, his eye fixed to the back of Peter’s back. They were close, they were  _ so, so _ close.

  
  
  


And doubt comes in.

Peter couldn’t hear footsteps behind him. He couldn’t turn, if he did the path might be lost and they would be stuck here, stuck in this in-between of Hyperion and New Town.

_ Is he there?  _ Peter thought, his hands starting to itch with anxiety.

( _ the women began to poke and prod at his mind.) _

_How do I know?_ _I could reach out behind me, I could try to touch his hand. Just once, just to make sure he’s there._

_ (they pulled the thread taught.) _

_ Yes, just one touch, that won’t hurt anything. Then, I’ll be able to lead him out better. _

_ (they readied the scissors.) _

Peter sucked in a breath and stuck his hand behind his back, his fingers just barely brushing against the skin of Juno’s hand before a shock of electricity hit him. Startled, he abruptly turned and locked eyes with Juno.

The THEIA in Juno’s eye sparked, blue electricity arcing out of it and into the dark before curling back into Juno’s head. Into Juno’s brain.

“Nureyev…”

“Juno…”

The thump of his body was cold and wet. It sounded, faintly, like the deepest, darkest note of a lyre.

  
  


Nureyev fled into the stars alone.

  
  
  


_ (It’s an old song.) _

_ (And that’s how it ends.) _

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy, see, i warned you. i hope you enjoyed this fic!! like i said before its been in the works for a long time and i'm so glad i finally get to share it with you! 
> 
> don't be shy to leave a comment, i love getting them and i crave that sweet sweet validation. also, i'm on tumblr at [labelleofbelfastcity](https://labelleofbelfastcity.tumblr.com/) come yell at me about hadestown or the penumbra!! have a good day/night, lovelies. 
> 
> (p.s. i didn't really edit this so if there are any glaring mistakes please let me know.)


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